Yagoura: A New World
by Xrross
Summary: One shot AU in which Misuto wins. Rated T for language and execution.


It was all over.

Trembling, Magari Mizuki looked over the wasteland that she once inhabited. Houses, streets, cities... the Earth... Everything had gone to hell. Mighty skyscrapers that once towered over men now lay in pieces, reduced to mere rubble. Fires raged everywhere, engulfing all they could. Entity walls stood randomly across the landscape. Even the sky was smeared a deep crimson, as if someone had poured blood all over it.

Humanity was on its knees. People were either fighting each other over the remaining, polluted resources, or running around stark raving mad, screaming. The only people who hadn't automatically been driven insane were the spiritually sensitive, but they too had taken part in the blood bath, killing and being killed left and right. The Wiccen Institute and Martuba's Tomb had fallen. For all she knew, Magari herself was the sane person in the world.

Magari herself was on her last legs. Her pale, flawless skin was now filthy, scratched and stained with blood. Her clothes, which could hardly be considered clothes in the first place, were in tatters. There was just a few strips of bloody leather covering her chest, and a torn, ragged skirt. She was barefoot. The souls of her feet were shredded, like ribbons. With each step she took, she left a bloody footprint on the hot, rough ground. She was leaning heavily on her scythe, the blade of which was now broken, the staff dented and blood stained.

"That... Bitch..." she spat out in a gritty, worn voice. Ayumi Shinozaki had failed miserably. Even after getting a second chance... Even after getting sent back in time... She failed. It was an incredibly pathetic death too. One of the Red Helms got her as she was on her way to the bell tower. How utterly ridiculous. The others... Satoshi Mochida... Yoshiki Kishinuma... Naomi Nakashima... Aiko and Kuon Niwa... all dead. Sachi had been destroyed by... _him_... once the false Book of Shadows absorbed the Nirvana's core. Magari fled Heavenly Host back to a dying world.

A world she would soon leave.

Finally, she could take no more. Her legs gave out and she hit the ground. She cried out as her head hit the floor, bitter tears flowing down her cheek. Her broken Scythe fell to the floor, breaking in half. Magari lay there, sobbing in the dirt, amongst the ruins of what once had been a massive city, full of people. Nobody was here now. Just a girl crying in the dirt, once so powerful, so cocky, now so weak, so pathetic...

It was just her...

Eventually, Magari felt a spiritual aura emitting from someone. Someone who was right in front of her. That aura slammed at her head in waves. It was unbelievably powerful. There was only one person who could be that powerful now. That was the one person that could never see Magari like this. So she forced her strength into her arms, and shaking heavily, pushed herself up slightly, and looked up at the figure standing in front of her.

Misuto Kiriya looked down at his rival, a twisted smile gracing his lips. His clothes, unlike Magari's were in perfect condition; no blood stains or tears. His hood was down, letting his long teal hair flow behind him in the wind. Open in his left hand was his grandfather's grimoire, now the new Book of Shadows, emitting cyan wisps from its open pages. In his other, he twirled a cheap, white umbrella. Magari swallowed and looked up at his eyes.

His eyes...

Misuto's eyes, once an ice blue, were now a deep purple, swimming around his pupil. It constantly pulsed, and sparks of all different colours seemed to go off within them. Magari stared into those eyes... those devil's eyes... trying to put up a stoic, intimidating front. But she'd lost her strength, her power, everything, she couldn't even hid her emotions any more. She just looked up at Misuto with pure, naked fear. For awhile, nobody spoke or moved. Then, Misuto stopped twirling his umbrella, the end pointing into the dirt, and broke the silence.

"Do you remember what I said?" He asked, never losing his sick smile, never losing the twisted glee in his demonic eyes. "I said that when this is over... I'd watch you take your last breath..." he said, his grin growing wider. Magari said nothing, just looked up at him with silent terror and fury. Misuto shook his head playfully at her, and turned towards the blood red moon in the sky.

"Are you watching grandfather? Hinoe?" He asked, staring into the moon, a sudden look of humanity and calmness in his gaze. "Heh... I've done it. They have paid for what they did... the Yagoura will last... forever..." he said softly, his purple eyes shining brightly, madness once again flooding his thoughts. "Hehehe... Hahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He laughed maniacally, looking up at the sky, his tongue sticking out. Magari slowly clenched her fists. She had little strength left in her. But she had to say something. She wouldn't go down mute.

"You... f... f... fuck... er..." She whispered, her voice dry and wreaked with pain. Misuto paused mid laugh, and slowly looked down at Magari. He was still making the exact same face he'd been when laughing, like someone had frozen his face. Then, his tongue retreated back into his mouth.

"Look at us, Magari," he said, surprisingly just using her first name without an insult. "The only of Martuba's Tomb and the Yagoura Society. I personally made sure that you were the only one," Misuto sneered. "But I'm afraid that things play different from this point on... I am not the last of the Yagoura... the survivors of this world, peasants and spiritual alike, will become my slaves. They, and all their descendants will become Yagoura... with me regaining over them... immortal... and all powerful..." he said.

"And Martuba..." he said, glaring down at Magari. He moved his umbrella until it was right next to her head. "Martuba dies with you..." he whispered, an insane look of pleasure in his glowing eyes. In an instant, he slammed the umbrella's plastic frame against Magari's head, which flew from her body, and landed several feet away, her look of horror forever imprinted on her face. Her body fell back to the floor, coating the area around its neck a deep crimson.

Misuto smiled at the corpse of his arch-rival for a few more seconds. "It was fun... shitbitch..." he said, turning around and walking away into the anarchy, eager to build a clean, new, perfect world...

A/N

It was an end too pathetic for a man like Misuto for me to take, so this is my answer. Happy birthday you sick, sick, incredible psycho.

*sigh* I wish this was at least a wrong end...

A/N


End file.
